spilled out as she began to pull herself together.
Enough.
She swore there and then that it would be the last tear she shed over Nico Caruso.
Aurora wiped it from her cheek and crumpled the sodden tissue in disgust.
Alone in her hotel room, with the others on the bus tour, she was bent double with the strength of her tears as she relived that night and the morning after.
Well, she had relived it for the last time and she had embarrassed herself enough over him.
It really was time to move on.
So, instead of peeling another tissue from the box she topped up her lip-gloss over swollen lips and tried to repair the damage her crying binge had caused to her eyes.
She would not sit in her hotel room and mourn him—or rather mourn the fantasy of him—for a moment longer.
It was springtime in Rome.
She downloaded that dating app and scrolled through it, but when she tried to write her profile she gave in and thought, Baby steps, Aurora.
She headed down to the bar, more than a little nervous about walking in alone.
And just as she was doing her best to get over Nico, who did she see walking towards her?
A scowling Nico, who, from his expression, wasn’t expecting to see her either.
‘Aurora.’ He gave a swift nod.
‘Buona sera.’ It took everything she had to greet him with a smile.
‘Buona sera. I thought you were on a bus trip?’
‘No.’ She did not elaborate ‘I’m going to have a drink at the bar.’
‘Alone?’ Nico frowned.
‘Not for long hopefully!’ She smiled at her own little joke. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Then she corrected herself. ‘Oh, no, I won’t. You’re heading home in the morning.’
‘Here is my home, Aurora.’
‘Ah, but home is where the heart is, Nico. You know that.’
‘I do,’ he agreed. ‘And I shall say it again—here is my home.’
He ordered his head to give her a nod and his legs to turn and walk off, but neither obeyed. And then, even as his common sense was screaming at him to walk away, he spoke. ‘And, given you are in my hometown, let me get you a drink.’
He’d done it again.
Just when she was determined to move on from him he pulled her back to him.
Well, not this time, Aurora told herself. Yes, she would have a drink with him, but she would not be making a fool of herself again.
He was her boss and she would hold on to that fact.
The bar was busy and he put a hand on her upper arm to guide her through. Staff jumped into action and they were taken to a quiet corner table.
‘It’s so busy I thought I’d have to drink at the bar,’ Aurora said. Although that was possibly the reason he had joined her. ‘It’s lucky we got a table.’ That sounded naïve. ‘I mean, I’m glad no one was asked to move to make way for the boss.’
‘It would be poor form to do that to my guests, which is why this table is reserved solely for me.’
He watched as her lips pursed and wondered what he could possibly have said to upset her, for it looked as if she was tempted to get up and walk out.
Aurora was.
His private table did not impress her. In fact she felt a little insulted as she wondered how many other women had sat in this very seat. How many hands had he held across this very table?’ And then she halted herself, for Nico was the last person she could imagine being affectionate.
They ordered their drinks—a spritzer for Aurora and a red wine for Nico—and then sat in tense silence as they waited for them to arrive.
‘Aren’t you going to ask me how your father is?’ Aurora asked.
‘I spoke with him two hours ago and I see his doctor tomorrow.’
‘My mother is taking in his meals while I’m away. In case you were wondering.’
Nico said nothing and Aurora took a deep breath, trying to keep her exasperation in. Reminding herself that Nico did not want to hear anything about home…
She was supposed to be keeping things professional, Aurora told herself. Except his father was fading. Did Nico properly know that?
‘Look, Nico, I know that after all he did to you, you must hate him, but I think—’
‘I don’t,’ Nico interrupted. ‘I love him very much.’
For Aurora the sky turned purple, the floor was now sand and the people in the bar were green.
Everything she knew was gone.
‘I have to accept, though, that he does not want my love. Still, tomorrow I will try again, and I will be told to get lost again.’
Their drinks were brought to them and even after Aurora had taken a sip of hers the revelation had not sunk in.
‘You love him?’
‘Always.’
His response was made in a voice she had never heard. One she did not know how to describe, for it was both decided and resigned.
‘So, no,’ Nico continued, ‘I will not ask you how my father is, because I am in touch with his doctor every day. I know he is failing. I have sent him the lifting chair that you texted me about. And I have a chef in Palermo currently trying to recreate some dinner he keeps speaking about. One that his mother once made. I hope that it will prompt him to eat.’
‘Nico…’
She did not know what to say. Oh, the hell of loving someone who beat you! The hell of loving someone who goaded and taunted you.
‘He seems a little happier,’ she said, and saw his disbelieving look. But she spoke the truth. ‘He seems calmer,’ she told him. ‘Although I have a confession, Nico. I was a very bad carer and bought him some whisky last week. We watched a television show together and we laughed…’
‘Thank you,’ Nico said.
Aurora resisted reaching over and taking his hand. Nico did not like affection, but she ached to give it to him. She attempted to keep some distance, as she told him the painful truth. ‘He’s nearing the end.’
‘I know he is.’
Aurora felt selfish for her assumption
